No Remorse
by browneyedkat
Summary: A look at how Tom Riddle's experience in school have affected him as Voldemort.
1. Chapter 1

Tom stepped into the bathroom, allowing a small smile to slide onto his face as the door closed behind him. His heart pounded against his chest, his dark eyes gleaming with a manic smile quite unlike that on his thin lips. He stepped close to the mirror, the dull flush fading from his face, leaving it once again pale. Closing his eyes, he slowed his breath. A face filled with terror flashed through his memory, expanding his smile slightly before he could stop it. He held on to that rush of excitement, sharp and clear in his memory.

_Thunk_. Tom's eyes flew open as the door slid closed, the smile disappearing from his features to be replaced by an emotionless expression. Reflected in the mirror, he saw a tall girl standing behind him. She was a Ravenclaw and a fourth year; two years above him. He had noticed her eyes upon him in the Great Hall before, and had always gotten the impression that she could see through him, that she could see every emotion and every thought he had. It was a feeling that chilled him to his core. Her eyes glinted as she looked at him, a spark of fire in her otherwise hard face. She took a step toward him, a predator on the prowl, her dark hair covering her face in shadow.

"Tom," she said, her voice low and dark, a deep burnt red. It was a voice Tom recognized, that he had heard whisper in the corridors. Shaken, Tom turned to look up at her. "I've seen you, Tom," she continued. "I've seen what you've done. I've seen inside your head."

Before he realized that he had taken a step, Tom felt his back press against the edge of the sink. She stepped toward him, fire in her eyes and her hands twitching as she reached for his wrists.

"I know you," she said, a growl entering her brown voice. "I know what you did to that first year, and I know what you did at that freak orphanage. I love you. I've loved you when no one loved me, and Merlin knows I've loved you when no one else did. Your parents never cared about you; the people at that orphanage never loved you. Face it, Tom; I'm the only person who will ever love you." She took another step, pinning him against the sink, her hips digging into his as her face drew within inches of his. "And I've feared you," her voice was so low it was almost a whisper, dark and chilling even as a gleeful lilt lifted it. "I've feared you when everyone else looked down on you; I've feared you when no one else noticed you. I'll always be here. Don't you ever forget it." Her breath came in gasps as she finished speaking, and she stared Tom directly in the eyes as her fingers, wrapped around his wrists, pressed into the sink.

Tom's eyes widened. An alien sensation thrummed throughout his body, blood rushing to his base as his stomach twisted. His eyes were filled with her face and nothing else, his ears echoed with a single phrase. _I've feared you_.

The girl glanced down and her dark eyes glinted, a manic, gleeful smile spreading over her hard face. Slowly, she began to grind into him, her eyes scraping up his body to his face, her breathing growing deeper. Tom stood frozen against the sink as, a few minutes later, her steady hands tugged at the cloth of his robes, pulling them off as she undid her own. His eyes widened further at the gasps coming from his own throat, and shock accompanied the pleasure rushing through his spine. When his eyes finally fluttered closed, the last sight he saw was the determined grin on her hard face, her fiery eyes trailing up and down his naked body, her parted lips through which gasps of pleasure escaped, coming together with his own to create a hum that echoed through the tiled room.

With his final cry, she was gone, her damp skin separating from his own before his eyes opened again. When they did open, she stood before him, her body displayed openly as she looked up and down his.

Footsteps rang outside the door, loud in the silence, and she was gone, her clothes gathered from the floor before Tom could blink, leaving him standing alone, his sweaty back still stuck to the sink.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Tom pleaded minutes later, unable to explain, but his profuse apologies were met with a promise of punishment.

Footsteps faded and she exited the nearest stall, the flame in her eyes burning, the fear on her face growing plain as she looked at the expression on his face. Tom felt the previously unfamiliar sensation growing again and shifted his bundled robes to cover between his legs. Glancing down for only a moment, the girl stepped close to him once more, grasping his arm.

"I love you," she said, her voice burnt red, almost black.


	2. Chapter 2

Second year, she spins him around, pressing into him in corners and empty classrooms, her hands reaching every inch of his body.

Her hand sneaks up behind his neck, unexpected, and when it leaves, the feeling that lingers draws him into an empty classroom after her. She slides her hands over his shoulders, leaving a tingling trail on his skin. She slides his clothes off of him, and slides her hands further down his body. Her gyrating hips slide over his. His eyes slide closed.

Third year, they conspire, their encounters hidden in doorways and shadows. Their voices lower to whispers as they pass, inconspicuous and subtle, unnoticed by those around them. Their arms tangle as they pull one another into the shadows.

As they pass in the corridor, her hand slips through his, gone after only a moment, leaving a note in its wake. They meet in the dark of the night, tangled together under the cool stairs of the entrance hall. Their voices rise as they gasp and cry out, and together they forget to worry about waking others. Her eyes never leave his and his never close; a constant beam passes between them, strong and solid, never wavering.

Fourth year, he reaches out, grabbing her out of corridors, dragging her into his arms as he holds her body close.

His arm juts out of a doorway, grasping her arm and pulling her into an empty classroom. She smiles and sidles close, but stops at the look on his face, freezing as her expression fills with terror. Tom's heart races at the sight, and he claws for her to come closer. A smile ripples over his lips as she lowers to her knees, looking up at him through wide eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Tom slips out of the bathroom, his heart racing with the excitement of what he has done, his skin tingling with anticipation of what will happen. He sleepwalks through his day, the world echoing around him, waiting. He keeps his expression carefully controlled, and says little to anyone, instead absorbed in his surroundings, hyperaware of each sound, each movement, each touch.

It's not until later, as he joins the school in the Great Hall, that he realizes he did not give full directions; he did not specify a target or a purpose. For a moment, panic claws at his heart, grabbing for it, but he calms himself. _This can be the test run_, he thinks.

Dippet steps before the gathered school, white-faced and wide-eyed, carrying in his arms a tall girl with dark hair and dark eyes, and a burnt red voice now silent. Her eyes are wide open, staring straight ahead, but the fire that once burned in them has been extinguished.

All chatter in the room ceases immediately. After a moment of stillness, collective gasp ripples through the crowd, releasing the held breath. The face of every student goes pale, and several Ravenclaws burst into tears. Dippet lays the girl on the table and straightens, his face grave as he turns to address the school. The words that left his lips flowed above the mass of students, crashing down over all of them even as he tries to be comforting. They sound strangely muffled in the hollow hall. To his left, the rest of the staff is gathered, tight-lipped and pale. Dumbledore's bright eyes look out over the hall, hard and strong and unnerving.

Tom stands straight and tall, his face impassive as he looks straight ahead.


	4. Chapter 4

Voldemort holds the Elder Wand before him, pointed at the spectacled boy who has caused him so much trouble. Standing opposite, stripped of his usual gallantry, the boy looks small; young. He looks weak. Now is the time to end this all, to put this ridiculous game to rest. Now is the time to kill this hateful child.

Voldemort feels a triumphant smile sneak onto his face, a face that has long since lost its controlled politeness, a face that has not feigned charm since before he can remember. He raises his wand, anticipating ending the life of the boy before him, but the boy is speaking again.

"Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…" Potter says.

Voldemort's eyes widen, and he feels the blood leave his face. His wand lowers slightly.

"Be a man…Try…Try for some remorse…" Memories flash behind Voldemort's eyes, things long forgotten, things that he had left far behind him. He sees a face, framed by dark hair, with eyes shining brightly, catching his breath on fire. He sees her frozen, empty, her dark voice never escaping her lips.

In a single brief moment as the green light flashes from Harry Potter's wand, the red gleam in Voldemort's eyes disappears, replaced by dark brown, and the slit-like pupils return to circles. But after that single miniscule moment, his eyes close, and Tom Riddle crumples to the ground, finally defeated.


End file.
